


New Territory

by i_am_therefore_i_fight



Series: tacenda [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, breakfast sandwiches and sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6929302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_therefore_i_fight/pseuds/i_am_therefore_i_fight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks to himself, This is what he was keeping from me. Because he thought I didn't want it. (Time stamp for Burn Box.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Territory

He keeps sniffling while they’re eating breakfast sandwiches. He’s wiping his eyes over and over, practically nonstop, and it’s making Dean uncomfortable. Dean wants to say something smartassish but he swallows the urge. They’re turning over a new leaf, right? He doesn’t know exactly what that means in regards to his attitude but he doesn’t feel like now is a good time to start testing those fresh boundaries.

Finally, Sam puts the sandwich down, wipes his hands on his pants, and presses his fingers into his eyes, giving a self-deprecating laugh.

“I can’t stop,” he says in a raw voice.

Dean aches for that immediately. How the hell did they get here? How did things get this bad without him noticing?

“S’okay,” he says. “The sandwiches needed salt anyway.”

Sam chuckles, in genuine amusement this time, but he doesn’t take his hands away from his face.

Dean scoots his chair closer. “Hey.”

Lifting his head, Sam blinks wet, red eyes at him.

A little awkward, but determined, Dean reaches around to the back of Sam’s neck and tugs him in. Sam goes easily, willingly settling his head in the cradle of Dean’s shoulder, and Dean marvels at how Sam just seems to fold in on himself so that he can fit into his brother’s arms—without hesitation, without compunction. Like he belongs there.

Dean wishes he had done this a long time ago.

Sam sniffles again, and lifts an arm to wipe his nose on his sleeve.

“Sorry,” he says against Dean’s neck, embarrassed. “God, I’m such a dork.”

Dean wraps his arms around his brother more securely, and he thinks, _This is what he was keeping from me. Because he thought I didn’t want it._

He wants to say, _Sam, you have no idea how amazing this is to me. You have no idea how I feel getting to see this, getting to see the real you. You have no idea how important this will always be to me, from here on out, and how hard I’m gonna hold onto it, how terrified I am of losing it now that I have it._

Instead, he says, with as much fondness as he can muster: “Yep.”

Sam shifts against him, and Dean thinks he can feel him smiling.


End file.
